Voices in the Dark
by Regans Alpha
Summary: Drafted by the Voices who are supposed to protect them, Squee, Devi, and Nny find themselves involved in a losing battle against Chaos, and in a position none of them are exactly happy to accept. Gasp... A unique plotline! And Ch 5 Up.
1. New Blood

Title: Voices in the Dark

Author: The Dragoness (aka Cupcake/Regan)

Notes: Yes, I like Nny too, and yes, he's going to be in this in a few chapters. But for now it's all about Squee, so get used to it. XP. Poor little Squeegee…

Disclaimer: Johnny the Homicidal Maniac is copyrighted by Jhonen Vasquez. And stuff. Yay. =^_^=

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Chapter One: New Blood

A blur of fine, black hair and the glimpse of a worn teddy bear peaking its fathomless eyes over the edge of a backpack were all that alerted passery's to the presence of the young teenager. Not that anyone would care anyway, being too absorbed in their own frivolous activities. In any case, Squee had already taken great pains to fit in with his surroundings; being inconspicuous was high on his list of daily necessities, as was staying alive on a daily basis.

_What idiots. Completely oblivious to the state of the world around them. Makes me fucking sick._

"They can't help it. And please watch your language."

Releasing each of the six locks on the door, Squee quickly stepped inside and sealed the safeguards behind him. The house was nothing spectacular; the sparse furniture denoted a decisive lack of feminine touch to be sure, but neither the person nor the voice who inhabited it were remotely concerned about style. The wooden floor, wide rooms, television set, and yards and yards of weapons and locks in the basement were their simple necessities. Letting his backpack slump to the floor, he retreated to the kitchen to make himself a sandwich, trying to forget the image of the psycotic murderer whose head he'd beaten in with his algebra book today. Nothing a bit of peanut butter and jelly couldn't help…

_They're idiots though, and you know it. What kind of person who is _not _an idiot would willingly heap their world with misery, chaos, and evilness, and leave it to rot?_

Squee glanced over the counter at the bear still lodged in his backpack on the floor. Ten years of wear and tear had not put a damper on the cynic's observant personality in the least. "I do wish you wouldn't remind me of that; I'm trying to digest my saturated fats and preservatives in peace, thank you very much."

Years had passed, and seven years of memories had too for The Child Who Had Been Todd. The silent wheel of time still turned, controlled by the same cruel fate that had plunged his existence into a dark and dreary cave of fear and rushing adrenalin, one with so many endless paths that he had long since forgotten how to return to the normal world from which he came. He sometimes wondered if he even _had_ come from such a place. He tried to think back to a happier time, but all he could remember were those nightmarish caves. Each twist and each gaping cavern he encountered became more and more horrifying. More prone to cause any eight year old to scream his head off and hide under his bead, praying to God that that monster still didn't live under there. Parents, murderers, aliens, and Satan himself lurked behind the stagmalites, waiting for the time when he'd stumble blindly into their pathway.

But The Child Who Had Been Todd was no longer eight years old, nor remotely what anyone could call "normal." Dwelling on the edge of nightmares incarnate did wonders for the personality. Relinquishing all ties to the world that had spawned him, Squee knew how to defend himself against monsters, disembodied voices, and raging adults at the ripe age of fifteen. But intelligent (for one must be intelligent not to be taken advantage of) and quick-witted (for one must be quick-witted not to be eaten), Squee couldn't help retaining a few of his old characteristics: his manners and his hope. Hope that perhaps one day the nightmares would stop, he'd be able to be a normal teenager, and hey, maybe he'd even find a girlfriend. But in fate's vicious circle, it was that bright and shiny hope that attracted the monsters and evils who had enough brains to recognize what it was, fueling their gut-wrenching desires to consume something so pure in the decayed, filth-ridden world though which they roamed.

_By the way, I'm going to have to go out tonight. Got a meeting to attend. Think you can hold off the fort on your own?_

"Sure. I'll manage."

Good. A pause. _Seriously, I can't stand it. If I had eyes to gorge out, believe me, I would find much better uses for that butter knife you're holding._

Squee sighed softly and quickly finished smearing the peanut butter neatly across his sandwich. "C'mon… you act like the world isn't like this every day of our lives." The expected smart-ass comeback failed to materialize, but Squee didn't think about it as he began to mechanically chew on his snack. Shmee's frustrated comments had become less frequent over the past year. The bear (or rather his voice… Squee still hadn't quite grasped the complete concept of guardians and parasitical voices) was always with him, always warding off evil or warning him of the first sight of it, but quiet contemplation had become a new daily habit. Then again, what else did one do without the ability to move around?

Brood over evil and the trash heap that was reality was the simple answer. _That _was one field Squee had experience in. His experience in it had become so pronounced in fact that Shmee had long ago decided the safest thing would be to channel dangerous auras through his guardian for an easy-to-pick-up frequency. With a sixth sense he'd be safe... but he was miserable at the same time. And the feeling of dread that never seemed to leave him had been steadily growing stronger. He crammed the rest of his sandwich into his mouth. Stronger, stronger, stronger, stronger, _stronger, stronger, stronger_. Like grotesque, rotting hands reaching out to grab him, to suck his battered soul from his lifeless, twitching body-

He swallowed the last bite and reached for a glass of milk. Time to start his homework.

*~*~*~*~*~*

The place of the meeting was unimportant. Such is usually the case when the attendees have a tendency not to use their bodies… if they even have one that is. But the voices did have to figure out some spot to converge in. And thus the entities who would decide the fate of the mortal world met in the dusty attic of an elderly lady's rotting home. Naivete may have led them to believe that their discussions were safe from the non-existent ears of evilness and chaos, but all who were assembled in mind alone were far too experienced to believe it. Dirt, grime, chaos, misery, and filth were all around them, thanks to the humans who had begun the whole cycle by carelessly polluting the world with their pettiness and strife, practically fertilizing the path for the birth of nightmare-like monsters. The evilness of the inanimate and the willpower of the parasitic were something even the knowledgeable Voices and Guardians feared. And thus the reasoning behind the meeting.

Shmee had called it of course, having never been satisfied with his role of merely guiding his fifteen-year-old ward and resisting most of the intangible powers that came to prey on the boy. Lucky him to be in charge of such a trauma magnet. Woo. Then again, the deceased Nailbunny had really had his work cut out for him. The rest of the Voices had ogled over the mind-boggling pulsations of chaos that had ensued from the dwelling place of the former Wall Keeper before his death and the temporary end of the universe. In fact, that event seven years ago had set in motion the events that sparked the need for such a meeting. The pains, fears, and evilness of the world, condensed and coiled to the point where it became tangible in the form of a hideous monster on the loose was enough spur them to leave their wards unprotected for just one night. Endlessly hungry to feed off of more fear and suffering in the forms of death and blood, the trapped monster had long ago dispersing itself over the far reaches of the Earth like a giant, dark cloud, raining down thick drops of chaos and misery wherever it went. The Parasites, milder versions who were forced to feed off of the minds of their victims to become powerful were populating the world more and more as their hosts became more troubled and confused. The struggle had been going on since mankind's creation, but something had to be done. Now.

_I am far too unmannered for formalities, and I don't think our present circumstances would allow for it anyway._ Shmee's voice easily overpowered the quiet murmurs echoing around the attic. _For seven years, our situation's gotten worse, specifically since that whole Wall Keeper incident. We're fighting a losing battle, folks. Enough of our numbers have died in order to see that._

It's not the situation we're worried about. Enny, an ancient voice who presently inhabited a thick storybook in a little girl's bedroom, cut in. _It's how to solve it._

I'm doing all I can.

I'm protecting my ward, but I can't take on anyone else's.

There's too many.

We're not strong enough.

The other voices joined in, announcing their opinions as well. After a moment, Enny made herself heard above the din. _ This is all very true. Shmee has just remarked that this is due to our failing numbers, which translates into failing strength and willpower. Thus, the only solution is obvious: we need new blood in our ranks._

Shmee gave a sarcastic snort._ You forget, Enny dear, that voices are _supposed_ to be immortal, despite the fact that we're being killed off. Chalk another one up to the bright thinkers up in the afterlife. Everyone here has existed since this whole system began; we move from ward to ward, but no more of us are _made_._

Have we ever tried? Enny's soft whisper was heard clearly through the sudden silence as the others considered the unthinkable. It would take an incredible soul. An pure soul. Innocent enough to be manipulated. Strong enough to make a difference. Ripped from the realm of the living into the space between. What a loss it would be. But… what a gain.

_What a gain… _Shmee voiced the single mental thought of the group out loud. _Yes… even one such type would do to just push the balance in our favor. Sadly, it is a gain we must be forced to take. So we'll go out and search for the one to do it._ His voice closed in on itself and he wished he had eyes to narrow._ We'll… search._

*~*~*~*~*~

On Friday the dread came. On Saturday the dread came. On Sunday the dread came. Oh wow, did it come. Squee was almost physically ill from the mental images and emotions that raced through his head: foreboding feelings of blood, gore, guts, monsters, plagues, and death violated his thoughts. Even peanut butter and jelly sandwiches didn't help. It was an intensity unlike anything he'd ever known. When he asked Shmee what it might be caused by, the bear was always silent. Either that, or after asking one too many times, he'd snappishly respond with, _The world is ending. Happy now?_

Actually, it didn't seem like such a bad answer.

It just wasn't fair, Squee thought to himself as he experienced another wave of nausea that had nothing to do with the idiotic sitcom he was watching on television. For once in his pathetic life, why couldn't he just be normal? He hadn't asked to be a living trauma magnet. NEVER would he have asked for it. He would've asked for parents. Parents would be nice. Parents who didn't move across the country, leaving their twelve year old son to fend for himself would be wonderful. And the ability to relax, drink a soda, and watch shows on a Sunday evening with his friends would have been paradise

The only friend Squee had ever really associated with was not a pre-adolescent classmate who played video games on the weekends. Instead, he'd been taken under the wing of a psychotic homicidal maniac whose idea of fun was inventing new and fun techniques with which to disembowel people with sporks. Then again, Nny was not so much a friend as a mentor, or guardian even. Ironically enough, Squee could identify with his insanity, chaos, and blinding willingness to expose reality's flaws much more than he could relate to some kid and his high school basketball teams. _Takes a lunatic to know one._ Nny's visits were random and few, mostly coming around his birthday when he showed up to give the boy a few pieces of advice and perhaps a brainfreezy in place of a cake. He almost regretted the lack of visits, finding the man who was more prone to act like an angst-ridden teenager rather than his actual age to be more company than a lonely room that screamed with mental waves of horror. Perhaps Nny would know what to make of the images.

But on Monday the dread ceased.

In all honesty, Squee was shocked, but overjoyed nonetheless. Something good had actually happened in his life? Something better than opening a new jar of peanut butter? Incredible.

"Shmee! Hey, Shmee! You won't believe this, but all that junk that's been whirling around in my head all weekend is gone! How about that!" Shmee made a noise of affirmation, and Squee quickly placed the bear in his backpack in preparation for another day of school. "Isn't that great?" He asked, smiling broadly.

_Huh? Oh… yeah. Great. Woo hoo._

Locking the six bolts behind him before jogging down the sidewalk, Squee smirked at his guardian's sarcasm. "Oh come on… be halfway cheerful for once. If I can do it, so can you." They turned down an alley to the right.

Shmee considered how amazing it was that such a sad individual could rebound so quickly. Must be that damned hope, or whatever it's called. _Woo hoo HOO._

"Pathetic. Try it again."

_Not now, Squee… I feel sick._

Concern roughly shoved happiness aside as Squee's worry over his faithful guardian rose. "Sick, you say? D'you think you're picking up what I was catching yesterday?"

_No, it's not that. Don't worry. Please don't worry about me. Just go ahead and enjoy yourself. Why don't you talk a bit more?_

"Um… okay. If you're sure you're all right" Squee instinctively walked a bit closer to the grimy brick wall as they pushed on further down the darkening side street. He couldn't quite yet see the light at the end of the tunnel, if his high school ahead in the distance could be called a beacon of any sort. "Well, you know how I always pick up frequencies with bad vibes in them? Well, of course you know… you filter them to me… Anyway, it was getting really bad over the past few days, and suddenly it just stopped! It was great; I could finally focus on what was really going on!" He took a big breath of air and shut his eyes. "I mean, I still know that there's a bully up ahead in the school yard, and a parasite lurking over that way in the café down the road, but at least I can think semi-normally again. I can't tell you how much I've wanted that."

He paused for a moment and blinked.

_What's wrong?_ Shmee's voice sounded strained, even to himself.

Without warning, Squee suddenly threw back his head and laughed. Laughed for the first time in who knows how long. Shmee vaguely thought in the back of his mind how pleasing the boy must've looked to humans when he genuinely smiled. The sick feeling returned and he mentally turned away. "Nothing's wrong!" More laughter. A bright step in his walk. "It's just that I can't even feel _them _now! I can't hear _anything _unusual at all! Nothing! I've never been so happy in my entire life!" Shmee stole one more glance at his ward. He wore a beaming smile on his face. And it was no small surprise. For the first time in his life, he didn't sense foreboding misery. He didn't sense despair. He didn't sense evil.

And he didn't sense his own death when the serial killer stalked up behind him and rammed a crowbar through the back of his head.


	2. Pawns of the Immortal

Title: Voices in the Dark

Author: The Dragoness (aka Cupcake/Regan)

Notes: Thankee so much to my one and only (Beta. XP) Shia for putting up with all the whining I did while writing this thing. *snickers* But people asked for more, so I wrote some! Shows you what happens when you review! *hint hint* Seriously though, I formally proclaim this chapter to be the bitchiest thing I have ever written in my life. Yay. Someone go find an ribbon. ^ ^

Disclaimer: Johnny the Homicidal Maniac is copyrighted by Jhonen Vasquez. And stuff. Yay. =^_^=

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Chapter Two:

Pawns of the Immortal

Silence. Beautiful silence and deathly stillness hung around him like wet tissue paper, thickly blotting out any sign of life, thoughts of the past, or cares of the future in one smoldering, never-ending moment.

God, he loved it. If only it could stay that way forever.

But a bright flash of light put that wish to rest. Bright flashes always meant trouble, such as the onslaught of monsters or parents. _Ah well, it couldn't last forever_, Squee thought to himself as the silence was shattered, and random snatches of outside noise filtered in around him like the noisy tinkling of jagged glass. The space nearby began to materialize into gray-toned vision, and he couldn't quite repress a jolt of fear. Where would he end up? Heaven? Hell? He could find himself just about anywhere, couldn't he?

But the world rearranged himself, and in a matter of minutes Squee found himself staring around a low-roofed, dusty attic. Closer examination revealed a large amount of random objects: books, silverware, lip gloss. The sixth sense in the back of his mind tingled, and he realized that the small room was practically overflowing with unseen presences and telepathic murmurs being tossed about. Catching a clear phrase or two was tough though; anything that got through to him was barely louder than a whisper and by and large unintelligible.

But even if he couldn't hear clearly, he could see each of the voice's forms once the dark room finally materialized completely. There weren't many though, thirty total perhaps. Back as a seven-year-old, Shmee had told him in lue of a bedtime story of the large bands of Guardians and Voices encircling the earth, defending nice little people like him against evil and chaos in an ongoing battle. A battle that, if the number of representatives here meant anything, they were probably losing.

_Squee. Are you okay?_

Squee glanced up to recognize his old friend and guardian, Shmee, positioned in the center of the room. A wave of relief washed over him. _Shmee! Yeah, I'm fine I guess. But the weirdest thing just happened right before I came here... Oh, by the way, where is here? And why _am_ I here? I know I'm rambling a bit, but I'm a little disoriented. Sorry. Um, do you have any idea what's going on?_

Silence echoed around the room. Squee felt an uneasy chill run through him as he waited for his guardian's reply. But the silence stretched on, growing longer and thinner like the old brown toffee on the bottom of his shoe. After a few more moments Squee was about to repeat the question when Shmee finally raised his voice.

_Yes. We do. _But then he stopped again, supplying an answer that was anything but. It was a familiar tactic that Squee recognized from whenever Shmee was either uncomfortable or angry. Not a good sign in either case.

_Well... that's good; I sort of thought you might. After all, you were there, weren't you? Right before it happened, I was carrying you with me..._ He glanced down at his hands to indicate where he'd been holding Shmee's tangible form earlier. But instead of seeing flesh, fingers, and blood, his eyes met with only the dirty wooden floor below him. He tilted his line of sigh further down. Still nothing. Just empty space below. As though plunged into a bucket of ice water, Squee realized with a shock that he had no body to speak of. He was gone. He didn't exist. No form. _Nothing_. Numbed by the knowledge, Squee's defenses dropped and he allowed himself to do something he hadn't done in years.

He began to scream.

Every guardian in the room immediately tensed and mentally clamped their hands down on their ears, trying to block out the long, connected shrieks that pierced through their minds. _Damn_ if that wasn't powerful. Spurred by either the confusion or the nice toasty feel of being ripped apart, the Voices each began to shout out their own commands and advice, becoming louder and louder as each tried to make himself heard, merely succeeding in adding to the chaos. Finally with a hiss of determination, Shmee linked to Squee's mind directly and raised his voice above the din. _Squee, stop it now! Listen to me: you're dead, all right?_

Abruptly the screams stopped. However, Squee still stood with his mouth open, slack jawed as he slowly rolled his head to one side. "...Oh."

_You were killed in that alley on the way to school._

"...Oh."

_And... look... now that you're dead we need you for something special, Squee. We need you to become an immortal Voice like us so that you can help us fight._

"...Oh." Squee offered nothing more than the one-word response, trying to collect his shaky thoughts. _I will not cry. I will not. I willnotwillnotwillnotwillnot..._ He'd already screamed like a child in front of everybody; he most certainly wouldn't degrade himself a second time. Besides, he'd decided many years ago that whether you cried for help or not, the monster lurking nearby would always come. Or in this case ever-lasting torment.

Torment. The word choice was prompted by Shmee's term "Immortal Voice." Which translated into no rest, no departure from Earth into the afterlife, and certainly no break from being exposed to horrors incarnate. And heaven? Forget it. Long ago, hadn't Nny said something about heaven being a world for the content? Nothing but nothing for eternity. Just sit in a nice wooden chair in the middle of a cloud, and lose yourself in a sea of relaxation.

But not for him. Never for him. That path was for normal people with normal lives and normal deaths. 

His life had been bad enough; why should he expect the afterlife to be any different? As far as he could tell there was just some unseen force out there, God perhaps, making sure that he got hit with everything he didn't deserve. _Whatever. Deal with it. Your body's gone, and you need to get over it. You'll live_. He mentally snickered and nearly burst into tears again. _Wait, no you won't._

Something else still irked Squee in the back of his mind though: namely the fact that he'd been murdered in the first place. After all, hadn't Shmee's job been to guard against that kind of evil? Squee had trusted him, and in return Shmee had kept him safe. Then when that wasn't enough, the bear had channeled those horrific frequencies through him like a radio tower from hell just so that he could be even _more_ safe. And Squee had put up with it, all of it, just so that he could stay alive.

He sighed and asked in a small voice, _You let it happen, didn't you? You handed me over to them?_

Shmee flinched. It was true, every word of it. He deserved every last accusation and insult anyone could muster. In fact, he welcomed blows as opposed to this muted quiet.

_You wanted me to die?_

Yet years of experience with Squee told him that all he could expect would be sad silence from his ward... no, former ward. Definitely former and nothing more. He'd resigned from his Guardian duty ever since the thought of Squee's physical death had crossed his mind. No doubt Squee'd picked up more than enough insults and vulgar language over his years of unpleasant experiences, but the child had always naturally repressed the desire to use such things. The cards had been laid out; boundaries were broken and walls were tumbled, and still he refused to use any of those devices for his own satisfaction. Refused to do something for himself.

It was almost sad.

Enny cleared her throat. Well, if Shmee wasn't going to speak up, _she _wouldn't let everything go on its merry little way to hell. _I'm not going to pretend that you don't know what we've been fighting; you've had a first hand experience in it before. There aren't many of us left, and consequently we're losing the battle. It's going to be hard, but with someone as young and strong as you are, we might be able to pull though. Let me explain-_

It's all right; you don't have to. I'll do it.

Enny and Shmee exchanged a glance. _Just like that? Are you sure?_

Yes... I don't want to be any trouble, and you need help. At Enny and Shmee's shocked looks he continued._ Besides, I've already told Shmee once that the people you despise so much can't really help what they do. If I clear their minds of this garbage... perhaps it'll help them a bit._ He gave a weak smile.

Enny nodded slowly. It was so simple. Perfect. _Thank you. After all, that's why we chose you. For your clear sight and purity._

Squee shrugged. _Thanks... I guess._ He blinked, paused, and licked his lips. _Um, excuse me..._

She turned. So polite. _Yes, Squee?_

Could you explain one thing? It's... kind of strange... and a little stupid. He glanced down at the floor, studying the ruts that ran through the ancient wood. _ I mean, I know I don't have a real body. I know I can't move. But I still... well... think I can. Like my mouth. I know I'm not moving my mouth. But I think of it that way! And it's as if I can see your forms moving. That's... wrong, isn't it?_ He dropped his eyes to the ground again.

The other Voices peered at him curiously, muttering among one another with interest. The small container of lip gloss hopped off the shelf, clapped her lid shut and stared up at Enny. Shmee may have been their fiery leader, but Enny was the oldest Voice, not to mention the most sensible. If anyone would know, she would.

_Well,_ she began, her voice slow and thick with a tinge of amusement that both piqued Squee's curiosity and vaguely bothered him. _I can't quite say... it's never happened to any of us before. But you are an exception. None of us have ever been truly alive, but you have. The best guess I can make is that your mind just chooses to associate those mental frequencies for expression, movement, and emotion with a familiar visual image. And if it makes adjusting easier for you, then go right ahead._

Everyone else found this remarkably interesting as they nodded in solemn agreement. Squee himself was quite relieved to learn that this actions weren't anything out of the ordinary. Er... at least in a disembodied spirit/voice/guardian sort of way. He sighed and lifted his left hand to scratch the back of his head before pausing.

Oh boy...

*~*~*~*~*~~*~*

Chaos turned and glided over cities, land, and hundreds of miles in the blink of an eye, moving with a careless grace known only to the powerful and the immortal. It preferred it this way, existing as a single consciousness rather than splitting off into minute, pathetic versions of itself, bestowing its greatness upon the actions of Parasites, murderers, and whims of society. Better to live as the awe-inspiring whale rather than the puny, minute skin cell. Both are of the same creature, yet the difference is astounding in the abilities and power each wields. For collective power was what chaos desired, and power is what it would have.

Sometimes, when the situation presented itself, chaos chose to take a tangible form and emerge into the world of the living. At that time, it would allow instinct would take over, and one single, pulsating desire would rise to the surface as it always did. Seek and destroy. Hunt and feed. Seek out the pure and innocent, corrupt them, devour them, and hunt and hunt and hunt and hunt and _hunt_ to satisfy that raging hunger.

To find food for the immortal.

But Chaos was never satisfied, never sated even after it had dissolved its tangible form away to become a boundless invisible blanket over the living again.

It was never like this in the old days, the ancient days before humans had polluted the earth with their waste. But change is good. Change is very good, Chaos reasoned. Deliciously good. Without change, the Earth would not have become a virtual breeding ground for its next meal. Its parasitical children would not have had their playgrounds of mortal minds to run free in. In fact, it was only after millennia of involvement with these free-thinking maggots that Chaos could even make decisions to start with. Before it was just that pounding instinct to eat. But now... Chaos gave a shriek of delight as it bounded around a back alley way, close on the trail of its next victim... Now it could revel in destruction, and most importantly decide what move to play next.

_Powerful girl... young.... pretty... bad, but good... strength... delicious..._ Chaos stampeded down the alley, moving far too fast for the eye to see before imparting its will unto a tall red-headed man smoking a cigarette nearby. The blonde twelve year old passed by without giving him a glance and the man grinned, the several piercing adorning his face catching the light as they moved. Chaos screeched again in amusement, and a sudden burst of wind ripped down the alleyway as the girl shuddered, moving on. The man signaled and his group of five companions began to follow her, their footsteps ricocheting off of the wet bricks and slimy walls, only interrupted by the quiet drip of water and the scurry of rats. Closer they moved until they were near enough to actually touch her. But suddenly the man caught sight of the girl's wrist watch, its face in the shape of a dog's head. The black eyes glared back at them, and the man pulled up mid-stride. He stayed there, curiously watching the girl turn a corner and disappear out of sight. The rest followed suit.

Meanwhile, Chaos bellowed with rage around them, fueling their own angry curiosity as to why they'd just let her get away. Curse those Guardians. _Curse them_! Curse them to deny Chaos its desires. By themselves they were nothing to it, mere dust in the wind, easily defeated, but too strong for such minions as these. Never send a servant to do the master's bidding.

Yes, Chaos could decide what moves to play next; sometimes they were wrong, but most of the time they were perfect. Before if could think, Chaos had never immerged in its tangible form as Itself before (Itself was the title to use, not The Wall Monster as those idiotic Guardians called it. Chaos hated that name, hated the fact that it had been captured at one point and allowed Itself to be spoken of that way.). But, using the ability to plan and reason, Chaos had decided upon being released from that wall and from the watch of the slave that kept it that it should not only be the most powerful entity roaming the planet, but the only one. Which required that it Itself emerge in the world occasionally to feed.

Chaos bounded forward again and quickly switched to its visible form, its many heads and arms thrusting themselves out into vision, startling the failure of a group into a fit of screams and cries. Chaos liked it like that. But it had wanted that girl though. Curse it... These meal tickets weren't nearly as good and pure as she was; they didn't hold much ability at all. But it was better than nothing. And hearing them shriek was enjoyable.

Chaos's central head grinned wickedly, exposing its long rows of sharp, pointed teeth. _I am your master, Chaos_, it screamed into their minds. _Answer me:_

Always the questions. Chaos loved the questions.

_Who is the master of this worthless planet?_

The females in the group wailed in horror and threw themselves at their respective boyfriends who in turn pushed them away, trying to hide behind one another.

_Who is the master of this worthless planet!_ Chaos gnashed its teeth, waiting impatiently for the reply.

The group redoubled its shrieks. Finally, the man with the piercings, his cigarette long-forgotten, pointed at the creature in front of him. "Ch... Ch... Chaos....?" He visibly shook with fear.

_And who owns all of your worthless lives?_

"Ch... Chaos?"

_And who is more powerful than life?_

"Chaos?"

_And who is more powerful than Chaos?_

The man stood for a moment, his finger still outstretched, his companions finally silent, broken only by the occasional sob as they stared up in awe at the monster. Chaos's many heads grinned simultaneously. _Correct, _it replied, before whipping its claws forward to feed.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Enny thought that Squee had taken the news rather well. Extremely well considering the circumstances. Oddly enough, it seemed to be in his nature to simply accept the situation and make the best of it, even in the face of death, betrayal, and change. In any case, it made the job easier for them. 

She glanced back over at Shmee to find that he'd retreated into some mental corner. Guilt pangs, she figured. Ironic really, coming from such a cut and dry cynic. But he did what he had to do for the group, so she'd try to reason with him later. First thing's first. _Squee, to make it easier to have contact with the rest of us as well as mortals, you ought to chose a form._

A form? He glanced from Shmee's stuffed ears to Enny's textured pages. _A form_, he muttered to himself again. Such a decision required some careful thought. He should pick something practical. Something useful. And perhaps something with a bit of symbolism on the side? That would be nice. His mind flicked though objects he'd encountered in his fifteen year lifespan, over items associated with school, his parents, aliens, Nny- He paused and the corner of his mouth twitched into a slight smile. Yes, something that could be helpful if used in the right way. A little creepy- his inner voice softening slightly- but no more so than whatever Shmee had turned him into. He swiftly formed the picture in his head of precisely what he wanted: a long slender knife, all black, even the blade. The sole exception was the design on the far edge of the handle, two eyes painted in reflective purple hues. After all, he had always seen what most weren't meant to ever experience. He took a deep breath. Finally, a choice that he was in control of.

_I've decided._

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Chaos howled once and the Parasites came. They always did. Perhaps not in body, but the minds of the minions always retreated back to their master.

Occasionally Chaos considered destroying the Parasites all together. They were pathetic, even in numbers. Pathetic when compared to Itself at least. No such accumulation of maggots, mortal or immortal, could ever stand up to its greatness. And while the Parasites were useful and did speed things up, Chaos just got sick of looking at them sometimes.

Now was not one of them.

_The Guardians_, Chaos began, not bothering to decrease the natural magnitude of its voice,_ Believe that they have acquired a new tool._

The child? Chaos recognized Sickness's voice, broken and alone. Perhaps she believed that it would rescue her mutilated body from the clutches of the human who had turned the tables to enslave her once future master. It would never happen though. She was a failure, and must be punished.

_Yes. Not one of my minions ever did touch him. I asked for him, but never received him. And now he is beyond my grasp as a Voice. A soon to be very powerful Voice that they think they can use against me. I am not happy._

A timid question broke the frightened quiet that followed. _But surely they're still no match for you?_

OF COURSE THEY AREN'T, Chaos bellowed in amusement. _But they are gaining more allies in new ways. And I think we ourselves should take advantage of such knowledge._ Mutters of agreement followed.

_Remind me once again, children. Who is more powerful that Chaos?_

Silence ensued in reply. _Correct. No go._

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Without warning, the steady hum of mental whispers exploded into a roar, crackling and swelling to a rise as Squee's death-grip on his sanity threatened to break. Now with an inanimate form to assist him, what had once been unintelliable speak was now overpowering, magnified by the sheer quantity of voices he was picking up. Not only thoughts from the Guardians flew through his mind at breakneck speeds, but random musings and petty complaints from mortals as well.

Like, I hope he asks me out.

God, I hate my boss.

Perhaps nobody will notice if I-

Squee? Squee, can you hear me? Enny's voice resounded painfully in his ears. He shut his eyes._ Squee, you need to filter out the background noise. You're picking up everything, every thought coming from miles around, not just us._

Wow, she's hot!

Oh. My. Gawd. Purple is SO not her color!

HOLY MOTHER! Look at my hips! They're, like, so freaking huge!

He squeezed his eyes tighter. _It's too _loud! He felt the voices flinch in response, and he felt another pang of guilt at that too. _Okay, Squee, you can do this. Think filter. Think filter. Filter like a... um... fish tank. Yeah, that's right. Be the fish tank. Be the fish tank._ He blinked. Jeez, the noise must be driving him insane. Better go faster. _Shmee said you were picked because you were special, and Nny always thought so too. So prove it._

Squee gritted his teeth (no, not teeth, he sternly reminded himself). He repeated his determined phrase over and over in his head, trying to blot out everything else that was colliding with his own personal thoughts. Slowly, very slowly, the noise pollution diminished, fading into static in the background of his mind. White noise. Carefully, he allowed himself to peer around and open his ears to the outside world again.

He didn't hear any congratulations or praise though. Not that he expected any, considering his audience.

Squee settled on the ground, blinking a few times to clear his head of the dim echo still ringing in the space between where his ears once were. The minor crisis over, the Voices sat enveloped in silence again. Squee figured that they were each immersed in their own thoughts, but he dared not attempt to tap them out of both respectful courtesy and fear that he might set forth another avalanche of sound. Squee wasn't exactly sure what he was supposed to be thinking about really. He tried just sitting still with his ideas, but he found it difficult to keep a straight thought in his head. He figured he'd grow used to it; the other Voices sucked up any rest time that wafted their way like a much-needed meal. Starving for a break from the insanity, he supposed. Not that it would take much getting used to for him.

Well, he'd have to ask _someone _what was going on. His vision crossed over Shmee's stuffed form. No, he didn't want to ask Shmee. Not quite yet. He wasn't mad... Squee figured that it wasn't very nice to be mad at an old friend, even if he _was _responsible for his death... but he just didn't feel like confronting him just yet. Give it time. He turned toward Enny. _So... um... what do we do now?_

Now we go up against Chaos in a battle of mental strength and willpower.

Squee sighed softly to himself. Guardians. If they knew the answer to a question, it was incomprehensible to them that the asker wouldn't know it as well. Smart-allecs as well, the lot of them. Perhaps that was some sort of requirement for the job, or a specification on the blueprint when they were created. Either that or someone up in the afterlife just felt like screwing with people's minds. Probably the latter.

_Um, okay. Just like that? We go out and find Chaos right now?_

What? No... no, of course not. We're not nearly strong enough to match a primeval force head on, and that is precisely what we are up against. In fact, we'll never be strong enough to eradicate it completely. We'd never stand a chance.

Squee blanched. _Then what's the point? What are we-_

Shmee's voice droned out from his corner. _We don't plan on eradicating it. We intend to weaken it enough to keep it at bay in order to lessen its impact on mortals._

Enny nodded. _Ideally, our plan is to imprison it in its tangible form again, and force it to become the Wall Monster once more._

Wall Monster?

A casual term someone invented a long time ago when it still applied. Years ago when Chaos made known its plans for supreme domination, it was forced to take on a temporary tangible form in order to assert itself to any reasonable degree in this world. Usually it would just infiltrate its victim's soul and manifest itself and all it stood for there. Sometimes though, in extreme cases out of hunger and greed, it would destroy its prey entirely. Not a pretty sight. At this Squee shuddered._ Thus, it began striking out against mortals and guardians in mass quantities, and sadly it worked too. We were unable to make up for the difference and maintain the balance, and the result is basically what you see today. Filth is all around us. Greed is almost touchable. Materials, wants, whims, desires, and hatred can be seen in every club, alley, and school you enter._

So... then all of this filth is not completely humanity's fault? Squee asked hesitantly, the last word rising in a hopeful question.

If that's what you want to think. But it's not true. Squee's shoulders sagged. _Chaos may be a primeval force, but it is no less a part of you than your own anger is. It is not individual emotions per say, but rather the collective consensus of all of humanity's waste and pettiness, its intensity directly proportional to that of your race. So of course humans naturally went along with Chaos's intentions, since in a way they were their own. Once Chaos could actually think for itself in the way that we and the Parasites do, it found that it could manipulate and magnify that greed and hatred, commanding its own creators._

But you said that you imprisoned it?

Shmee gave a short bark of laughter. _Oh yes, a long time ago back when there were many more Guardians than you see now. Chaos is much weaker in its tangible form. Still strong as hell, but it tilts the balance in our favor. It had overestimated its abilities, and we had managed to temporarily weaken and capture the monster. Its prison for all purposes was a wall and its keeper an angst-ridden psycho._

Nny?

Enny blinked. _Do you know him?_

Yeah... he was my neighbor. Kinda a friend I guess. No wonder he looked so troubled. Smelt of such evil and grime and chaos. He probably hadn't asked for the position either. Once again, a cruel world. Once again, not fair.

Shmee continued. _Unfortunately, we hadn't weakened Chaos enough to keep it permanently under control. The wall was just something we hastily put up to stall for time. The keeper would feed it blood and fear, keeping it sated until we could think of something better._

Enny snorted. _Which we didn't._

Is that my fault?

No. It just means we've got to do it again, better, and with less allies.

In other words, we need a new tactic, Squee muttered.

Precisely. Shmee moved forward to praise Squee's quick thinking, but caught himself. He backed into the corner again and continued. _Precisely. We need more allies who can oppose him in its touchable form. We have a new immortal soul. We need our first mortal._

But wait, Squee interjected. _Won't that be dangerous who whoever we chose?_

_Undoubtedly. Flesh and bone don't stand up nearly as well as mind and psyche. But hey, that's the way the cheerleader tumbles._

Unseen brown eyes blinked. _But that's not really fair. Why should they put their lives on the line if we ourselves run no risk?_

Shmee paused and continued a moment later, his voice low and steady. _What makes you think our existences can't be snuffed out as well? I said we were _supposed _to be immortal, not unkillible._

...Oh.

_Even so, we still need a mortal to do our bidding_- Squee raised an eyebrow. _Okay. We need a mortal to_ help_ us._

And who better to team up with, Enny broke in,_ Than someone we all know is hard to break and has had extensive experience with these kinds of forces before, if not the most experience of any human on this planet?_

Grunting noises could audibly be heard.

Shmee, please don't grind your teeth.

What's so bad about the choice? Squee asked. Sure, Nny had a downfall or two. Well, downfalls. Plural. A couple of basements full. Despite how much Nny had traumatized him in his younger years and even through high school, the man with the spiky hair and possessed brown eyes had been the only living person who had had ever put faith in him as an individual. So he may have scarred him for life in the process (such as a lesson on how to properly electrocute someone, or a birthday present consisting of a brand new "self defense" weapon, illegal in fifteen states, not including Puerto Rico). But he deserved _some_ credit... right? _What's so bad?_ Squee repeated.

_Nothing_... Shmee narrowed his eyes. _It's just that I.. _hate- his voice curved thickly around the emphasized word- _that mortal. Hate him, hate him, hate him._

Enny smirked. _Hate that he can tap your frequency and hear every word you say, you mean?_

No. Hate how all of that potential has to be found within a foul-mouthed, ranting, raving lunatic who pokes people's eyes out on the weekends.

It's a phase. You'll get over it.

Hardly.


	3. King and Queen

Title: Voices in the Dark

Author: The Dragoness (aka Cupcake/Regan)

Notes: And here come Devi and Nny! Yes, they will be a much bigger part of the story now. Also, all the act~i~on starts next chapter. Fun stuff. As always, thanks to my one and only (beta), Shia. Sorry it took so long to come out with this, but I actually forgot about it! See… this is why you people need to review and remind me to write! I love comments. ^_^

*~*~*~*~*~*~

Chapter three: King and Queen

_House number 777. Welcome to heaven, boys and girls. And remember to just ignore the screaming; the devil's renting a room this week._ Squee decided in the back of his mind that, now that things were going slightly his way, Shmee's constant sarcasm had most definitely returned. He rolled his eyes. Another thing he'd decided was give up on trying to think in action-less and intangible terms. Believing that we was really rolling his eyes or twiddling his thumbs wasn't going to hurt anyone. That and it was really starting to give him a headache.

Materializing in the central room on ground level, Squee could just make out the spidery hunched-over figure in the corner fixedly working on something or another. For the life of him (or lack thereof), he honestly couldn't tell whether it was the actual person or just a shadow. Nny _was_ accustomed to wearing an awful lot of black. But the shadow suddenly turned, blinked, and with a loud crash from whatever it had been toying with, jumped sprawling through the air to land lightly on its toes facing them with one knife out and ready for some Voice-stabbing action.

_Wow. Now _that_ wasn't predictable. Honestly, I did not see that knife thing coming._

Will you shut up for once and actually work? We've got a job to do. An important one if your ego's left enough space in there for you to remember, Enny hissed in Shmee's direction. Just leave it to him to let a grudge ruin the whole plan.

Although he was able to hear every word exchanged between them, Nny didn't really take much notice of the conversation. He was too busy trying to evaluate what to do with the bear that had just suddenly appeared on the floor to his home. And the book. And the knife. And the lipgloss, ragdoll, watch, scuba flippers, sunglasses, and backdated issue of Vanity Fair. Like lightning, images of the doughboys flashed through his head, and Nny bent down into an alert crouch. "Are you-"

_Out to steal your mind? Formulated from your thoughts? Mr. Eff's old college buddy? Don't even ask; the answer is no._

Ah, arrogance. Now that was familiar territory he could to deal with. "Hrm. Conceited, aren't you? Well then, my disembodied friend, I'm afraid I don't seem to like you very much. So with the utmost concern for your well-being, how about you casually poof out of my house since you obviously know what happens to most things that enter it?"

_Because we want to talk to you, Johnny._

Nny raised an eyebrow from his position low to the floor. "Have we had the displeasure of meeting before?"

_Unfortunately, yes. My name is Shmee._

"Shmee... oh, that's right. The asshole stuck in a teddy bear's body. Heartwarming story." He straightened his back, returning to his normal height. This thing was no threat. Incredibly annoying perhaps, but it was a defender, not a destroyer. "You're supposed to be protecting Squee, aren't you? I don't suppose you know where he is now? His birthday's rolling around soon."

A moment of shuffling passed before a familiar voice spoke up. _I'm... right here._

Nny stiffened and glanced around the room several times before finally settling on the jet black knife lying on the floor in front of him. Still keeping his eyes on the knife, he raised his chin slightly and asked, "Where?"

_Right here._

Suspicion confirmed. Gently picking up the weapon, he turned it over in his hands, noting the carefully painted glowing purple eyes on the edge of the handle. As if the kid didn't have enough to deal with without being an immobile object. "Squee? What did those bastards do to you?"

_Look who's talking. 'Bastards' my-_

Shmee! For the last time, shut up-

Um, Squee scratched his head. _Well, I'm just sort of helping them fight the forces of evil and all that. You know how it goes. And they needed me as a voice... a sort of guardian, like Shmee was for me._

Glancing over the black knife one more time, he stooped down and replaced it on the floor. "Didn't do a very good job by the looks of it, did he?"

_Hey! Shut the hell-_

Shmee, I said-

Yeah, well, Squee interjected, wondering which would crack first: Shmee, Enny, or the steel knife Nny was still casually fingering. _Basically Chaos, the thing that encourages Parasites and evil in the world... um... Enny said you'd remember it as the Wall Monster. Do you?_ The sudden glowering look that sprang to life on Nny's face was a definite indicator. Squee decided to quickly get off that subject. _Yes, well, Chaos is appearing more and more, killing guardians, manifesting itself in people more so than usual, and... well... pretty much doing some really nasty things._

Squee is a powerful asset to us as a mental force, Enny picked up,_ and to complete our group we need a physical one as well to help us fight and save humanity._

Leaning casually against a wall, Nny picked idly at the dust under his fingernails with the knife. "So in short you've come crawling to me to enlist my much-needed help. Does that about cover it?"

Without giving Shmee time to come up with a reply, Enny continued. _For all practical purposes, yes. But don't you see, Johnny? It will give you a chance to redeem yourself from everything you've done... all the murders... all the blood. You can repent._

Nny paused, dropping his eyes to the ground for a few moments, the only sound in the room that of one steel-toed boot grinding against the worn floor. "I do regret the murders. I do regret the blood. You're right about that. I was different back then... controlled. I realize now that a life isn't something that should be handled lightly." Without warning he suddenly grinned haughtily in precisely the way that unnerved and angered Shmee the most. "But repenting for the people themselves means that I must believe that I've done something wrong. Those people _deserved_ their fate; they brought it upon themselves through their pittiless actions and selfishness. And if that my means wallowing in guilt and crime comes as a side effect, then so be it."

_So you won't help us, is that it?_ Enny retorted cooly.

"Honestly, I don't see why I should. You're asking me to fight for a world that is not worth saving. Don't you see that that is the exact oposite of what I've become? You want to play heros for people who refuse to stand up to fight their own battles that they created out of this filth! _They _caused it and _they _don't care. What did they do to deserve such champions? Tell me that."

In the back of her mind, Enny decided that she was beginning to agree with Shmee on this note. Nny, without a doubt, was almost more trouble than he was worth. Of course, it didn't help things in the least that the damn mortal was completely and utterly right. The world as a whole _was _unworthy of such help. Not only would its inhabitants not help themselves, but gratefullness or a firm desire to change for the better was out of the question as well. It almost made one want to pull out a soapbox, stand up, and tell humanity to go royally screw itself.

_They _don't _deserve them. That's why they need our help._ Nny tilted his head slightly to one side. Squee. How could he have forgotten that Squee was there? He inwardly groaned. He _knew_ Squee hated it when he talked about people that way in front of him. Such comments usually prompted a voice of reason to emerge. One which, unfortunately, made a lot of sense. _People are like that because of Chaos. Well, not completely, but enough to affect their lives a good bit. And if we lessen its affect of them, maybe some will see the error of their ways. Which accomplishes the exact same thing you want, but without having to slaughter them first, right?_

Nny snorted and with a flick of his wrist tossed one of the knives he was fingering straight into the arm of his raggedy gray sofa. He always did tend to get irritable when his arguments began to fail him or worse, backfire. "Right. Don't we wish?"

_Yes_ Enny interjected, thanking Squee over and over again mentally. What an asset._ And I know in the back of your mind, you want to get back at Chaos for what it did to you. For invading your mind? For creating the doughboys to ruin your life?_

"Shut up! And I'm not talking to you." With a sudden burst of energy, Nny picked up the knife and sliced through the air to point at the large book that had moved and was now sitting on the table. "I'm talking to Squee."

_Look, you know all you need to understand, mortal._ What little patience Shmee had started with had failed him long ago. Specifically, about fifteen seconds after he had entered the house. _Are you going to help save mankind, assist your friend, change the world, seek your revenge, blah blah blah blah? Yes or no?_

"As you like to put it, blah blah blah blah, no."

The assembled voices in the room let out a mass sigh of frustration that would have been quite amusing to hear had the situation not been so tense. Mortals were so frustrating to deal with. Especially unbalanced, philosophical, murdering ones.

_Nny?_

"Yes, Squee?"

_Please don't make your decision because we want you to. I remember that you told me about how you hated being controlled by the doughboys, and I guess this really isn't any different. If you're going to help or not, do it based on your own choices, and just think of all you have to gain from them. All right?_

Squee had always been surprised how much Nny had listened to him over the years. Although he had always been dismissed as either "just a kid" or "mentally insane" by everyone else, he had actually paid attention to his reasoning, and maybe even cared. He'd never asked, but he wondered if it was because Squee was his only friend-like person, was just someone to talk to in this mad, mad world of insanity, or maybe... just maybe because he made a little bit of sense.

It didn't really matter at this point. Squee simply watched with the other voices as Nny, eyes closed and leaning against the wall, suddenly pounded his fist violently against it three times before stomping across the room to grab a frayed, brainfreezy-and-bloodstained backpack lying underneath a chair. "Look, here are the rules, Mr. Cheerful," he began, placing each of the Voices' forms into it. Pausing when he reached Squee, he placed the black knife inside his jacket, eyes facing out, before continuing. "You're not the boss of me, I'm not the boss of you, we stay away from each other, and if do anything remotely aggravating to Squee I will rip your head off faster than you can measure the IQ of a cheerleader. Got it?"

_Couldn't have put it better myself._

*~*~*~*~*~

Twenty minutes later, Nny found himself walking down vaguely familiar downtown streets, past clubs and cafes, taking the occasional left or right when Enny told him to. The thing that really bothered him was that whenever he asked where they were actually going, the only responses he'd get were "to help oppose Chaos" or "to our destination." It was really starting to get on his nerves, and ignoring his own personal reasons for going up against evil incarnate, the only thing keeping him from telling them that they broke the rules and going home was Squee's reassurances that the others weren't purposefully trying to be annoying. Not completely.

_Guardians just always talk like that... you've got to get used to it._

"Ah. You mean like poetic goths?"

_Eh... well, sort of._

Nny could tell that the people he passed were giving him the odd stare over either his appearance or the fact that he appeared to be talking to the street post up ahead. No matter though; he honestly couldn't care less, and wasn't exactly in the mood for a philosophical rant.

Taking the next turn down a small, dark alley, Nny gave his backpack a sharp jab. "Okay, Shmee, enough is enough. Either you get a new mode of speaking and start actually answering questions for once, or I leave you here, go home, and just deal with not saving the world on my own time. "Where the hell are we going?"

_Fine then, if you put it that way. We're going to put a small dent in Chaos's plans, and give us a boost while we're at it._

"Very good. And?"

And_ since you obviously don't like us, we thought you might need someone to share this responsibility with. To both talk to and physically help. Not to mention that we have doubts about your dedication. We actually have someone in mind that we learned about from you. She's rather strong. But then again, you already know that._

Nny pulled up in his walk, pausing as he squinted one eye before widening both in surprise. "NO!" Snatching the book roughly from his backpack, he feverishly tore at it, ripping out yellowing pages and bending its spine backwards as much as he could with a satisfying crackle, twisting his own back around a few times before wildly hurling it at a nearby brick wall. "_No no no no no_!!!" The dark red book hit the pealing wallpaper with a nasty-sounding smack and slid loudly to the floor where it lay in an unsightly heap of mangled lettering and paper. "Leave her out of this, you ma-"

_Going to start in on the torrent of creative curses, now are we?_ Shmee sounded disgustingly amused. _Why shouldn't she join us? She can take perfectly good care of herself. You of all people should know._

"Shut UP!" Nny turned a pair of wild eyes on the innocent-looking stuffed teddy bear and pointed one accusing finger at it. "I am _not_ getting Devi involved in this! I promised that I would forget about her so she didn't have to end up in the middle of this kind of shit! You've got me working for you already, so just float off and do what ever it is you do. I don't want her having to do this! At all!" As a final touch, he threw the bear against the wall as well, sending it to join Enny on the slimy floor. He vaguely considered stabbing it with the black knife he now carried, but decided against it in favor of saving Squee the psychological torment.

_Fine then, be that way._ Shmee's ever-persistent voice wafted up from the floor._ If she isn't taken in by our side, then I suppose you'll be happy with her under Chaos's desires. Or better yet, killed. And I really do mean that "better yet" part._

"What?" Nny hissed, narrowing his eyes slightly.

_Don't 'what' me, idiot, you heard. We _are _telepathic, moron. Chaos is a powerful monster, but an arrogant one. Heaven forbid that one of the 'lowly guardians' tap in to what it says at its little board meetings with the Parasites. And what do you know, it feels left out of the fun and wants a human servant too. Whether to actually help or just piss us off is irrelevant._

"Devi," Nny muttered quietly to himself by way of collecting his thoughts. God damn it, he'd dragged her in anyway, hadn't he? Shit! She hadn't had any contact with Parasites or voices as far as he could tell. Where else could the damn monster had learned about her from except from his own thoughts? And he'd thought a hell of a lot about her back then. Still did occasionally, despite his efforts to fulfill his promise to eradicate her from his mind. She stuck out like a pinpoint of white light among the rest of the dark muck flying around his head.

"Did you say killed?"

_Yes. _He could practically feel Shmee grinning._ Yes, I did. Killed, mutilated, and devoured. Isn't that just lovely?_

Shmee's inner grin jumped and wavered for a moment as Nny let out a surprisingly ferocious snarl at nobody in particular. But immediately he spun around to snatch up Enny and Shmee slightly less - than - gently. "Fine then. You won. Can we go now?" That was two arguments he'd given into today. Not good for his mood at all. Shoving them into his backpack, he began to sprint down the road, moving as fast and agilely as his lean legs and clunky boots would allow.

"Shit. She is going to be so fucking mad at me."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It was a normal day. Get up. Eat. Shower. Paint. Scream at painting and throw brushes. Take a break. Paint some more. Avoid Tenna. Give in and talk to Tenna. Eat. Torment Sickness. Listen to music. Paint one last time for good measure. Go to sleep.

Fuck, life was boring.

If it wasn't homicidal maniacs, possessed artwork, and voices, it was a dull life with nobody to talk to but a hyperactive neighbor and a doll whose eyes she carried around in her purse next to a box of tic tacs and a tube of Yellow Ochre no. 42. It was rare to find anyone to talk about _real _life with, but at this point she wasn't even sure she was living one anymore. Her job was steady and normal, she left the house on occasion now to go out to a normal club or a normal restraint, she always checked and cross-checked with a reference to make sure that her dates were normal executives or normal doctors. After seven years of coaxing herself out of her self-imposed prison, she'd finally achieved what she'd set as the end-all, be-all of her existence. It was nothing less than normal.

And nothing more.

"FUCK!" She shouted to the empty room at her usual ranting period at nine in the evening. What the fuck was _wrong_ with her? How could she have been so _stupid?_ Normal? She was an artist! An intellectual! Someone who actually gave a damn about life, not popularity and possessions! Who the hell did she think she was, trying to be just normal!?

Oh, she knew. She knew... she just didn't want to admit it that all those people who haunted her and earned her undying hatred had had that much of an affect on her life after all. Had blinded her broad scope of things and had convinced her of what she needed to get through life without being surprised and horrified at every turn. It was only after achieving such a state of "every-day life" that she'd realized that there was no way that someone with a personality as absurdly unique and creative as hers could stand being shuttled around in a mundane lifestyle. Full of fluff and plastic. Fake facades.

And of course, Sickness' mere presence was always there to remind her of what it used to be like. However horrific and unsettling it was, her past was the extreme version of a reality in which she could actually think outside the box and experience _all_ of the world, not just the clean, "normal" part without the grime. As it turned out, the grime was what made it interesting.

_Interesting, you say? Well then, perhaps you'd like to see more of it?_

Taken completely by surprise, Devi froze, her only discernable movement that of her right hand gripping down on her paintbrush harder. Much, much harder to the point where the wood began to splinter and crack. After all, it wasn't very often when you suddenly hear smooth, suave, and painfully loud voices pop into your head.

She took a deep breath and said slowly and cautiously, "Who are you and what the hell are you doing in my apartment?" She snapped her head around, a few stray purple locks falling across her eyes as they darted around the motionless room. A piece of blank drawing paper drifted slowly to the floor from its perch on the tabletop. When nothing responded, she began to get just a little edgy. "I said, who are you? Answer me, damn it!"

_Master! _ Sickness's thin, ragged train of thought filtered in through Devi's head. _Master, thank you! You finally came for me, to rid me of this ungrateful bitch!_

_Fuck. It's a party in my head. How nice._ "Hey! This is not a free for all. This is _my_ room and _my_ mind, and I want to know who hell you think you f-"

_Yes, you _do _seem to enjoy that word a lot, don't you? But as to who I am, all you had to do was ask. I'm not one to disappoint._

With just one massive jolting shake, a giant crack appeared down the length of the apartment's outer wall, widening slowly as winding tendrils and claw-tipped stalks of hands began to snake into the room, branching out like hideous, twisted roots One more jolt tossed Devi, her purse, and several half-finished paintings back to crash painfully against the opposite wall. Scrambling behind the dust-covered recliner that was looking a bit worse for wear, she watched as the still-protruding snake-like arms ripped through her wires and security systems like wet tissue paper and the centermost portion of the wall crumbled away, revealing and inky night sky behind where it once stood. That is, the portions she could see behind the writhing sleek mass of the monster curiously peering into her wreck of an apartment.

Through the entire process, she didn't make a sound. She simply gripped the back of the chair, her long nails ripping into the soft fabric, and stared back at its central head with unblinking green eyes. Her cross earrings shook slightly.

_Hello, Devi. I am Chaos. Would you care to know who is more powerful than I am?_

Its heads grinned.


	4. Revelation

Voices in the Dark

Author: The Dragoness

Notes:  Sorry... this took a bit longer than I expected…. Again.  Seriously though, when I finally went back to ff.net after it started working again, I saw all the comments you guys left me, sat down, and basically wrote all of this. ^_^  See!  Comments work!  Eh, lots and lots of psychology/dialogue in this one… I basically explain Devi's entire personality at one point (*snort*), and for those who just want to hit me over the head and say "cut to the chase," let me tell you, it takes a TON of explanation for a lot of this stuff.  But fear not, for you get the first bit of actual good-old-fashioned action as well, and now that all the explaining out of the way, expect a bunch of action from all 3 characters in the next chapters. Enjoy!

~*~*~*~*~*~**~

Chapter Four

Revelation

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                _Hello, Devi.  I am Chaos.  Would you care to know who is more powerful than I am?_

                Its heads grinned.

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                At Devi's stunned silence, Chaos continued.  "I see you don't.  Allow me to introduce myself then, mortal.  I am often referred to as 'the sum of all anger, confusion, disorder, and madness in the world,' and sometimes called 'both the cause and effect of the living grime you see.'  But those clinical definitions are so demeaning I usually destroy anyone I come across who uses them.  Instead, you may think of me as an immortal being from before the dawn of your petty species: Chaos."

                Devi merely returned a closed expression in reply, and Chaos became slightly perturbed that the idiotic girl didn't seem to register any awe or amazement.  Perhaps this whole "mortal" thing wasn't worth it after all.  A façade of primeval emotions of "hunt, feed, and destroy" were much more suiting for a powerful entity instead of this lowering down to a human's level to deal with these "feelings" and "emotions."  After all, when it came down to it, mortals _were_ much less powerful and infinitely more pathetic than Voices or Parasites.  But Chaos had decided what it wanted: a human to play with.  Specifically one of three particular humans for the pure and simple reasons that the Voices had wanted them.  And Chaos by now was long used to getting what it desired.

                "I come bearing an elite gift, Devi," Chaos said, slipping further into the human pattern of speech and logic.  "Plain and simple, I offer the chance for you to slip away from your petty life and join my ranks of power."

                The full force of what had just occurred in the past ten minutes suddenly came crashing down on Devi as she tried to grasp her mind around it.  "What?!" she all but spat, finally finding her voice in a fury of anger and confusion.  "You come into my apartment, trash my room, scare the _hell_ out of me, and then expect me to just go along with you?!  Someone's already tried that once before, and it didn't work.  You expect me join the source of the scum and stupidity I've been trying to avoid all of my life!  Look, you seem to have a lot of heads… I'd think you'd know how to use at least one of them."

                She flinched as the previously mentioned heads snarled simultaneously, darting toward her for a split second and then retreating as an afterthought.  Perhaps insulting an immortal wasn't the best idea in the book.

                "You don't seem to understand," Chaos droned, its voice slow and patiently strained.  "The only reason I am actually going to explain it to you is to get what I want, so don't even think your opinions hold any importance.  You claim that you hate your species for their stupidity and worthless obsessions with the idiotic?"  
                "Obviously.  Which is exactly what you embody, if I infer correctly."

                "Yes and no.  I am the embodiment of their emotions and instincts, not the people themselves.  So you value none of these petty creatures then?"

                "Most of them have hurt me, and I can't think of anyone worth mentioning for the better.  Take a wild guess."

                Chaos flicked its central head to one side.  "What about this "Tenna" creature?"

                "Her too.  She doesn't try to hurt me; she's just so stupidly oblivious it's painful."

                The monster cracked a few joints and rolled its central head in a way Devi didn't like at all.  "True as that may be-" It paused for a moment more as though preoccupied, and Devi's uneasiness steadily climbed higher. "-you are, as usual, forgetting to take several very important facts into account…"

                Chaos suddenly grew silent as four of its heads snapped up to stare at the battered door to Devi's apartment.  Devi however, refused to break her concentration on the thing,  lest it be a trick the monster might be playing.  That is until-

                "Hey, Devi!  What have you done to your door?  You know, if you're resorting to violent tendencies, you really should get out more."  The sound of the doorknob rattling.  "Oh, be quiet, Spooky.  It's just Devi's appartment.  It's weird, but there's nothing bad in there; you know that. Devi!!!  I'm coming in!"

                Instantly Devi whipped her head around, catching a mouthful of purple hair in the process. "Tenna!" she yelled at the door, half surprising herself with the force she used.  "Don't come in here!"  She blinked in horror as she watched the bottom lip of the door slowly move along the wooden floor, gathering a small pile of dust and debris as it moved.  "Do you hear me?  Do _not_ come in here!"

                "No way... I'm not - Spooky, stop it - letting you stay in that dark old room by yourself!"

                "Tenna, you fucking idiot, get OUT!"

                The door continued to move.  "Resorting to name-calling, are you now?"

                Out of the corner of her eye, Devi saw Chaos's central head slip into a wide grin, and she felt her teeth clamp down even tighter.  "_Tenna_-"

                "Nope, too late!"  The door finally swung completely open to reveal her neighbor, her black hair pushed back with a green headband, and her eyes squeezed shut as she grinned.  With a small movement she held out a brown paper bag at arm's length in front of her.  "I brought rame-"

                With a high-pitched shriek, Chaos lashed out several of its bony arms and tentacles.  Tenna only had time for one look of utter horror before she was gripped tightly around the waist, hurled upwards, and slammed into the opposite wall.  A cloud of dust billowed out through the room, and even more plaster managed to rain down from the already demolished ceiling.  Devi felt herself thrown back from the force of the impact to land roughly on the floor.  Her purse fell and skidded along the length of the room.  A moment later it hit the opposite wall, spilling a brush brushes, a box of tic tacs, and Sickness onto the floor.

                Coughing slightly, Devi raised herself up on one elbow and felt her eyes open wide as she watched one claw-tipped arm drag an unmoving Tenna along the dust into the center of the room.  Unconscious? Hurt? Dead?  Devi felt hysteria... no... _anger_ bubble over within her.

                _Now that's more like it._

                "_You fucking bastard!!!" _She screamed, standing up and half-posed to attack the thing in front of her, eyes glowing with rage.

                _You see?  Anger and emotions are an integral part of you.  Look at the force of your reaction._

                "Of course!  Look at what you've done to her!"

                Chaos's claws dug into Tenna's shirt, and it slowly flipped her onto her back, her head lolling to one side.  _Precisely.  But you said you hated this thing.  She annoyed you.  You only used her company as a last resort._  The claw flipped back a stray black lock that had fallen over her face.  _And yet you react in such a violent way.  Do you know why?_

                She merely narrowed her eyes in response, but that horribly annoying voice in the back of her head was working overtime, despite her best efforts to suppress the thing.  God, it was true, wasn't it?  She _had_ treated Tenna like that.  But... Tenna knew better, right?  She didn't only see that part of her.  Tenna knew that she wasn't so self-concerned and closed off all the time... right?  Lost in her own thoughts, Devi shook her head numbly.

                _Because you are _connected_ to this person.  Because you are social, thinking creatures, you are connected to every other member of your species that you ever meet.  You react to their words and actions, and thus you are affected by them.  You even model your mode of life off of  them.  The jerk outside the grocery store.  Your landlady who yells at you every Sunday to pay your rent.  Your father. Your boyfriends.  Your murderer.  Every single time you chance across one, you will take the time to form a picture of them in your mind.  And thus, in your very head, they become a part of you.  You are affected by the memory you have created, no matter how much you try to isolate yourself._

_                But you have a flaw Devi.  A very serious one, if we exclude the previous insane self-exile from the world and your temporary expedition into the land of "normal."  You-_ its heads leered- _do not recognize the value of these very important relationships.  You do not want to involve yourself too deeply because the people you meet are not perfect.  You don't want to get hurt.  So you attempt to refuse any and all meaningful ties to others.  It takes the thought that this girl is dead to make you realize that she is your only friend in the world_

_How... psychotic._

Staring at Tenna's unmoving body, Devi wrapped her arms around each other, clutching her sleeves with her nails.  "So that's it then?"  She muttered, disgust tinting her words.  I'm a horrible person.  I'm just as fucking psycho as all those jerks who did this to me."

                _On the ground levels, yes.  Living among the millions of worthless, pathetic soles, it is a flaw.  Since you are connected to other humans, you are connected to the anger, hate, and chaos within them.  You feel yourself affected by it every day.  Whether you hate it or like it is your business, but there is no escaping it.  Not until the day you die, and depending on where you go, sometimes not even then.  However…_ it grinned again._  Through your strength and your capacity to learn, I am willing to take you directly under my control, to work as our only human among our Paracites.  You will be above the filthy creatures you despise, who have hurt you.  You will not be a part of them.  You will only watch.  And control them._

_                There is only one relationship among the elite.  Master and minion._

                Still holding her arms, Devi watched Tenna without looking up at Chaos once during its speech.  Its enlightenment.  So much different than Sickness's last-ditch effort to offer her power.  The offering was an existence without ties.  It made so much sense... it explained everything about her screwed-up ideals that she refused to tell anyone, or even admit to herself.  Perhaps that was why she was so susceptible to it… after all these years something at last understood her, was on her level.  Earlier she would have agreed.  At age eighteen.  Seven years prior.  Fifteen minutes ago.  But now...  Now she couldn't tear her eyes from Tenna, even to watch an immortal monster that had ripped a hole into her living room.

                Tenna _was_ her friend, wasn't she?

What do friends do?

                Worry about and help each other.

                Even if one annoys the other?

                There are many different types of people.  Don't judge so harshly.

                Then what about the jerks I meet?

                That is the picture of them in my own mind.  They have names and personalities too.

                It's because I don't want to become involved that I don't try to see them as anything but that.

                But what if they really are jerks?  Then I don't have to feel obligated to them?  To think about how much I hate them?

                To ruin my potential for relationships with other people?

                Because don't want to become involved with those "jerks," I refuse to allow myself to get close to people who could provide company for me.

                That's not right. Then I'm allowing them to control my life.

                They may affect me in some small way, but I don't have to become so involved in it.

                I don't have to let people I don't want to be involved with affect by thinking to the point where I don't want contact with anyone remotely not "normal," do I?

                I can choose who and what affects my own life.

                I am in charge of myself.

                I am in charge of myself.

                "_I am in charge of myself_!" She yelled, pointing at Chaos's central head with one outstretched finger, cracks and flakes visible in what was once purple nail polish.  "You may have created all this filth in people, and I may be connected to the whole stinking lot of it, but I don't need some monster or voices in my head to rise above it!  I can do it my own way!  I can think for myself, damn you!

"And if you don't like it," She tilted her head to the left and gritted her teeth. "Then you can get the hell out of my living room."

                A ringing silence echoed through the room for a few moments, ricocheting around Devi as she stood triumphantly in the midst of it, her head held high and eyes flashing as though she'd just delivered the most important statement in her life.  If this was the end of her, then damn if she would go down without a fight.  She had a life to design.

                _Master!  _Sickness wailed from the floor.  _The bitch only wishes to spite you!  She's too stupid to ever join us; I know it.  Just kill her now!  Rip her to shreds!  Use her body to-_

                Without turning, Chaos's arm slammed down roughly on the doll's tiny, blind head, slowly tightening its clawed grip until her seems burst and teeth splintered.  Then with a subtle flick of its bony wrist, it sent what remained of the Parasite sailing across the room.  _That's better.  But Sickness was right you know.  I can see from your mind that you are too stupid to join us willingly, and sadly you are too strong-willed and stubborn to be much use if we use your mind forcibly.  Oh, it would be easy of course... don't think that you're that powerful at all; Parasites could do it with enough time... it's just that I honestly don't feel like being troubled about it.  You understand._

                Devi snorted.  "Of course.  Everyone hates hassles.  Even disgusting monsters like yourself."__

Chaos growled and chose to ignore that last comment.  Strength _had_ been her appeal in the first place, hadn't it?  Besides, she'd get what was coming to her.  _Exactly.  So I'm afraid I'll just have to use your soul as some nourishment instead.  Goodbye, Devi.  You should feel honored that a being so powerful took notice of you before your death._  It thought for a moment.  _Which reminds me... Sickness?  Would you mind telling our guest once again who in this world is more powerful than Chaos?_

                Silence issued from the scraps of stuffing and metal.

                _Thank you._

                Without so much as a moment's pause, something Devi had always thought a common courtesy of villains everywhere, Chaos lunged at her.  Or more precisely, one of its arms did.  As she threw herself flat on the floor, it shot over her head, slicing through the ends of her hair as she fell, and slamming the sofa into the opposite wall.

                "Got to focus," she muttered to herself, noticing the strands tangled between the thing's claws as the large spikes ripped through the fabric on her couch.  Jumping to her feet again, she began to prepare for the next inevitable attack when she heard yet another pounding on her door.  She chose to ignore it, and the pounding quickly turned into solitary thumps, growing louder and more violent until finally the entire frame shook with each impact.

                Wondering what could be next, she watched as what remained of her battered door fell into the room with a loud "whump," followed by a figure moving very, very quickly to close the distance between them.  She squinted through the dust.  Tall, thin, spiky hair-

                Her eyes widened in shock. "You!"

                Panting slightly, Nny rested his hands on his knees, taking in long gulps of air as through he'd just sprinted through half the city.  "Yes... me.  Look, Devi, I know what you're thinking-"

                "What the HELL are you doing in my apartment?!  You are the last person I want to see right now.  I'm a _little _busy in case you couldn't tell!"

                "I... know... I came to... help."

                She was half-tempted to tell him to go screw himself, that she didn't need any help, and that he could just wait outside until she was done so that she could kick his ass again... but... her eyes wandered over to the monster in her living room.  Shit.  As much as she didn't want to admit it, a homicidal maniac would be a Godsend in a situation like this.  And her stubbornness concerning Mr. Johnny C. didn't run so deep that she would throw away her life simply to spite him.  Son of a bitch.  She shot him a scrupulous glance and saw that he was tentatively watching her from a safe distance.  Well, he seemed earnest enough.  She'd take care of him later.

                "Fine.  I still have a score to settle with you though.  Don't forget."  She paused, the word "forget" suddenly reminding her of a very real problem she'd actually taken her mind off of for a few seconds.  But to her surprise, Chaos was merely grinning at them, flipping a few tentacles back and forth as it cracked its knuckles and elbows.

                _Now this is a pleasant surprise.  I can't believe you idiotic Voices would actually bring your mortal straight to me to save this... girl.  Well, if I can't have one, you can't either._

                Out of the corner of her eye Devi saw something move at an eye-watering speed and suddenly felt herself yanked off her feet.  A writhing mass of tentacles smashed down on and splintered the ground she used to be standing on.  Boggling slightly, she suddenly realized that Nny had grabbed her around the waist and was now sailing through the air with her.  Understandably she did the first thing that came to mind.

                She punched him in the face.

                Thrown off balance, they both crashed to the floor.  Devi pulled her fist back again, while Nny scrambled to his feet, clutching one hand to his cheekbone.  "_Shit!_"  He glanced at his hand, checking for any sign of blood.  "What the hell did you do that for?!"

                "Don't even think about touching me unless you care for a re-enactment!" she shouted back.

                "Damn it, Devi, how am I supposed to-" he paused, blinked, and suddenly threw himself at her again, forcing her to the ground as she yelled and began to kick and punch in an attempt to dislodge his grip.  Meanwhile another tentacle whizzed above their heads.

                This spectacle continued for about five minutes, him tossing them both around the room, her fighting for all she was worth, and both pausing every few seconds to yell insults and justifications at each other.  Missing being turned into a human pancake for the twentieth time, Devi half-heartedly pulled on a fistful of spiky black hair.  The ritual was tiring both of them out, if Nny's less violent flying leaps were any indication.  A bit of a shame really that all those welts and the blood under her fingernails weren't caused by the fucking monster that was smashing up her apartment, but an ex-girlfriend instead.  A little funny really.  Or not.  _Why the hell does he keep doing this?_ she wondered as she released her grip and rolled away again.  _That bullshit about wanting to help me?_  Yeah right.  Nny was a homicidal psycho.  Period.

                You're judging too harshly again.  You're not trying to see what else he could be.

                Damn it, she KNEW what he could be - Punch.  Kick.  Elbow. - Intellectual, smart, and philosophical.  But he was a psycho who wanted to kill her.  End of story.

                What about the phone call?

                Kick.  Kick.  Eyejab.  Bullshit.

                How do you justify this then?  How hard is it to believe that he still cares for you?  Even after everything you've done, whether it be seven years ago or right this minute.  Even if it is screwed-up and even if you don't want it, his loyalty remains.  The least you could do is accept his help, remember him as the person you thought he was, and stop acting like _such a fucking BITCH._

                "Fine."  She slowly withdrew her fist from his left shoulder.

                He winced slightly.  "Fine what?"

                She stared into the brown eyes before her, one squinted slightly in pain.  He did mean it.  "I believe you.  Don't expect me to apologize; I won't.  But I appreciate what you're doing, I'll give you that much."

                Looking slightly surprised, Nny nodded once at her once and smiled slightly, suddenly frowning again as he closed his eye completely.  "But… did you have to be so rough about it?"

                "Yes.  Think of it as payback."


	5. Darkness Descending

Title: Voices in the Dark

Author: The Dragoness, aka Regan

Notes:  Okay, I thiiink that's enough of the pages and pages of characterization. ^^;;;  Of course, all-action chapters really aren't my thing, so expect more thinking of course.  But now that everyone's actually on stage, I can actually do something with them.  _Absurdly_ long update time… I know… so sorry!!!  (no beta either to kick my arse)  Once again, I am extremely forgetful (although this "get emailed when you get a review" thing helps now ~_^), but now that I'm back in school I've decided to crack down and finish this thing eventually!  Eck.  Action-ish chapter.  Eck again.  Hope you guys enjoy it!

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Chapter Five: Darkness Descending

                And thus began a new session of "Let's make Devi's apartment even less recognizable than it was before."  To put it quite frankly, for the last ten minutes Chaos had been attempting to crush everything within the cramped space, hoping that at least one of its adversaries would be destroyed in the process.  Yet Devi and Nny were not to be underestimated, having a quicker and smaller size on their side.  Dust and splinters of furniture flew into the air as on separate sides of the room, they each attacked the creature with their own set of weapons: Devi her kicks and Nny his knives, attempting to find some sort of weakness in their adversary.  Although it was taking its toll, they skirted around the monster, slicing and causing damage wherever they went until the Voices interrupted the proceedings.__

_                What the hell are you doing?_  Devi whipped her head around, trying to find the location of the perturbed voice that had suddenly burst into her head.  _Do you honestly think you're going to stab an immortal entity to death?  You don't fight like that and you know it!  Now stop screwing around trying to save that girl and do something useful, you idiotic-_

                Without looking up from Chaos, Nny reached into his backpack, took out a stuffed bear, and hurled it across the room.

                _Cute.  Reeeeal cute._

                She wasn't even about to ask.  Well, maybe she would ask once she'd finished managing not to be crushed to death by the frantically pounding and very angry arms flailing around her head.  Besides, she doubted that Nny would be able to answer her at the moment.  He seemed to have his own set of problems.

                Needless to say, Chaos was not a happy deity.  At least not from what Nny gathered.  Fortunately, the light maneuverability and general size difference managed to allow them to avoid being crushed to death by its massive claws and tentacles.  Precise as those claws were, something told Nny that the creature's main forte was not physical combat.  _So why hasn't it attacked yet?_

                _Because we're holding its mental forces off, idiot!_  Although as sharp and biting as usual, Shmee's retort sounded weary in Nny's mind.  _So it would please the rest of us if you'd STOP throwing your protectors around the room and DO  something!_

_                We can't keep this up much longer,_ Squee rasped, gasping for air before gritting down against the ongoing waves of mental frequency Chaos was emitting in an attempt to enslave the resident humans' minds.

                _You can't keep this going?_  Nny asked Squee as he thrust his knife upwards through the jaw of yet another of its infinite heads.

                _Nnnno… we can barely hold him off as is.  We need… a plan… this was… a rescue operation._  He paused, mouth open as he gasped for air before swallowing thickly and continuing.  _Actually… Shmee really wanted this to be a… test run.  To see what would hold up and what wouldn't-_

_                SQUEE!_  The bear's voice thundered through their minds._  If I want backchat and gossip I will gladly turn on the news!  Now work!!!_

                "Devi!"  Nny ducked and rolled to his left, and placing his palms on the ground where he landed, sprung between two massive claws.  Finding himself near the remains of what was once the kitchen, he sprinted along the length of the wall, using the battered and crumbling plaster as a shield.  "Hey, Devi!"

                "What?!"  She thundered back, aiming a kick into the nearest head.  She clenched her scratched hands into fists and turned to look at him, sucking breaths in between clamped teeth.

                "The voices can't take this much anymore… we need to just get out of here.  Now.  Get over to the kitchen if you can."

                She nodded and immediately began to weave her way around furniture, taking an erratic zig zag route as she leapt over chairs and ducked under coffee tables.  Meanwhile, Nny bolted across the room to snatch Shmee where he had fallen and thrust him into the backpack once more.  Realizing their intent, Chaos screamed in fury and redoubled its efforts, banging and destroying more objects in anger over its prevented mental conquest.  Dust particles mixed with plaster while sweat flew into the air, and Devi squinted her eyes against the tears that threatened to spring up.  Throwing herself around a small footstool and blindly hoping that she hadn't gotten off-course, she felt a sudden pressure on her ankle, and with a sudden jerk she stopped in mid-flight, and came crashing down on the floor to land flat on her chest.  The wood creaked back at her and she coughed roughly against the sharp pain in her sternum, winded temporarily.  Behind her, Chaos screamed in triumph.

                She had to fight back.  _Get up, Devi… Get UP!  Get up NOW!_  Gasping, she began to violently kick the claw wrapped around her leg with the heel of her other foot.  "Get off, you bastard!" she managed to growl, a note of anxiety creeping into her voice.

                But then there was Nny at her feet, frantically slicing away at the thing, eyes wide, teeth glaring, and face splattered with blood.  She almost shrank back in fear before remembering whose side he was on.  With a triumphant yell, he splintered its wrist and wretched its vice-like grip off of her ankle.  But in a flash the disembodied thing had dug its razor-like fingers into Nny's own arm, clenching down to draw blood as he backed away with a start.  Devi sat up violently, and with one fluid motion grabbed the severed wrist and hurled it back at the creature it came from.

                "Thanks,"  Nny muttered thickly as he shook his head to clear it.  "Can you stand?"

                "I can manage."  She shifted her weight onto her ankle and grimaced.  "Twisted.  Don't think I can run though."  Soundlessly, Nny slipped his arm around her waist and pulled them both forward in the direction of the front door, which could still be accessed from the splintered and destroyed kitchen.  Nny had flung it open when Devi suddenly smacked both her palms against the frame, stopping them with a jolt.  "Tenna."  Her eyes quivered.  "Oh shit… I forgot about Tenna."  She turned and, throwing herself away from Nny's grip, flung herself back into the room, weaving unsteadily on her feet.

                _I can't leave her.  I can't leave her.  Not like this.  Not after this.  She's my friend._  Leaning against the wall and panting heavily, she drug herself forward, forcing her damn ankle to move like it was supposed to until she reached the unmoving body tossed carelessly against the wall.  With a grunt she dropped heavily to her knees.  "Tenna?!  Please be alive…"  She flipped her onto her back, dragging her closer.  "Tenna-"

                "What are you doing!"  And suddenly Nny was at her side again, yanking all three of them away from the whipping tentacles and falling plaster.  Well, that was fine, Devi thought fiercely.  He'd take care of her, and she'd take care of Tenna.  However, Nny's next statement snapped her back to reality.  "Chaos just blocked our exit," he growled, snapping his head in the direction of her front door.  It took only a moment to register the piles of debris and spare arms and furniture piled haphazardly around it.  He raised his voice.  "What should we do?"

                "About what!" She shouted back over the noise.

                "About an exit!" 

                "Find a new one!"

                "Where?!"

                "There!"  She jabbed a finger at the full-length window three yards in front of them.

                Despite the flying plaster, dust, and general chaos bouncing around them, Nny fixed her with a stare that did nothing less than question her sanity.  And then with a shrug, he linked his arms around her waist.  "Sounds good to me.  Hold on to her."  Devi nodded, gritted her teeth, and tightened her grip before finding herself flying though the air.  Well, that was it, she decided.  They were insane.  The both of them.  And with the roar of shattering glass, they began the long plunge to the sidewalk from her fourth-story apartment.

  
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                The mind-numbing crunch of broken bones and the explosion of her insides as she crashed messily into the pavement didn't go quite as she'd expected.  Of course, that was mostly due to the fact that it never happened.  Not yet at least.  So understandably she was a bit shocked to find herself enveloped by complete darkness, floating alone without a glimpse of Nny or Tenna in sight.

                "Hello?" Devi shouted, unease growing when nothing, not even her own voice's echo, came back to her.  What in the world was going on?

                Everyone was gone.  Everyone was in danger.  And she was somehow responsible for this, wasn't she?  The thought suddenly clicked into her mind.  Yes, that made sense, didn't it?  It was her fault that Tenna had been hurt, that she herself had to be rescued.  Just like all those other things Chaos had told her were her fault.  Because she was so screwed up in the head… so "psychotic."  Socially inept.

Of course.  It made so much sense.  Her life was one big screw up… a waste… not even worth fighting for…

                Wait_._

                She blinked pointlessly into the darkness.  What the hell was she thinking?  This was her life, screwed up as it was, and why would she just toss it away?  And where the hell had that thought come from anyhow?!  An unsteady grin crept across her face.  Of course… Chaos.  Well, if it thought it could get to her so easily, it'd better try something a bit better than that.

                _All right then.  How about this?_

                Confusion.  Pain.  Fear.  Loathing.  Sadness.  Greed.  Hunger.  Without warning a million pinpointed voices flared to life in the void around her.  Mr. Nervers's droning, her boss at the bookstore's pompous sneers, the man who hit on her at the café, Tenna, her father's complaints, her classmates, her neighbors, her boyfriends, Nny's screams.  All mixed in with uncountable others, thundering against her aching head and melding together into an unrecognizable mass, each connected by the a single face.  "_We are a part of you.  You are a part of us_."

                "Shut up!"

                "_We have changed you.  You have changed us.  You are a part of Chaos whether you like it or not_."

                "I don't _care_!" she screamed, digging her nails into her scalp.  "I already know, and I don't care what you say; I'm not going to lose myself here.  So give me my friends back and let me the _fuck_ out of here!"

                A moment of silence and the darkness shattered like a hollow mirror, the last tiny sound of tinkling glass fading away just as her body slammed into the awning at the base of the apartments, ripped through it, and fell roughly against a pile of cardboard storage boxes.  Shocked, she stared dizzily up at the nighttime sky, slowly flexing her fingers as her mind spun in a disoriented loop.  Then with a gasp, she bolted up into a sitting position, loosening her grip on Tenna and laying her on the ground.  A glance from her broken apartment window to the awning to the boxes verified that she was still alive, something that was somewhat of a surprise.  Talk about a lucky coincidence.

                _Coincidence, my fuzzy ass.  That was a phenomenal amount of work to set up.  These resources aren't as available to us as they are  to the Parasites_.  The voice in her head, the one she assumed came from the stuffed bear in Nny's backpack, sounded decisively peeved.  Nny.  Hissing at her ankle to stop being so darn painful, she turned and tossed several boxes aside, finally finding her savior and potential murderer still unconscious and bleeding slightly from a cut to the head and the claw marks on his arm.  Biting her lip, she paused.  Something in the back of her mind still irked her about even considering helping him, the one person, other than herself she now realized bitterly, who had helped ruin her life more than any other.  She jumped as his hand closest to her twitched slightly.  And yet… Squashing the previous thought and mentally kicking herself, she reached out to shake his shoulders roughly.  "Nny?  Hey, get up."

                _Not quite out of Chaos's control yet_, a female voice chimed in.  _He has a few more demons to deal with first._

                _Sorry we couldn't help; we were busy with manipulating the physical world for you._  A child-like one filtered through her mind this time, and her expression softened in spite of herself at his sincere words.  _Not that you really needed help… you were very good._

                _Sure, taking into account that Chaos was distracted as hell_.

                Devi chose to ignore this last comment, too tired at the moment to start an argument.  She shifted her weight a bit off of her sore ankle, sliding a few more boxes aside.  "Thanks.  I'm not going to be much use here though.  I defiantly won't be able to carry both Tenna and… oh.  Hi."

                Nny, now awake, blinked slowly back at her, eyes slightly unfocused as he undoubtedly mimicked exactly what she had done minutes earlier.  "Hi."

                "You okay?"

                "Yeah, I guess."  He rubbed his head, making a face at the sight of blood on his fingertips.  "Well then, that was fun."  He dropped his hand and closed his eyes, looking for all the world as though he were merely taking a nap on the grass and admiring the stars.  "Where to now, Squee?"

                _Home.  Time to regroup._


End file.
